Henry Ford's Legacy

Like most of my friends in the USA, high school meant homework, part-time jobs, Friday night football and if we were lucky, keys to a car. For some, it was a rite of passage and for most, it signaled our first taste of freedom. We enjoyed this luxury and were thankful that we could go to Blockbuster, Crossroads Mall and Whitewater all without supervision. Some of us contributed whatever our meager minimum wage paychecks allowed - maybe enough to cover monthly insurance or to help with the car note. At any rate, our vehicles were a reliable source of transportation. A way to get from point A to B without having to ask mom and dad.

Regardless of age, the majority of residents in Baku cannot afford a vehicle and for most, owning a car is an unnecessary extravagance, which is just as well, as the main roads are already overcrowded with crazy drivers, who all act like 16-year olds out for their first spin. A two lane road quickly morphs into 3 or maybe even 4 lanes at the whim of a driver. Shoulders are used for passing and pedestrians never have the right-of-way. All too often, you witness cars moving the wrong direction down a one-way street and traffic can be at a stand still if someone haphazardly abandons/parks their car, blocking a lane.

As you might expect, horns are used at will and are as much a part of life as breathing. A leisurely stroll through a docile neighborhood is accompanied by a plethora of horns at various octaves, making me imagine a horn-dominated symphony where all of the instruments have been mutilated. Ranging from beep-beep to honk-honk, everyone has a horn, including the elderly man I witnessed pushing an electric lawnmower across a busy intersection, using a small bicycle horn attached to the mower's handle. The diabolical orchestra continues even where these signs are posted:


Those not fortunate enough to have access to their own ride, indifferently spend their commutes in public buses, which my friend Ryan so eloquently taught me is all "A & A: armpits and a--holes" - never a truer description has been said:


The few that have saved enough money for their own wheels, a sense of pride is noticed in the almost-obsessive rituals of daily car cleaning.

Step 1: Park car on sidewalk (the fact that Baku is a pedestrian community is irrelevant).

Step 2: Find a recycled bottle of air conditioning condensation water (readily available underneath every unit overhanging a public sidewalk).


Step 3: Go Mr. Miyagi on the car.


Vehicles are not merely for transportation, they enable many to make a living. Hence, the overwhelming numbers of taxi throughout the city. The Russian-made Ladas are a favorite in this former Soviet state. There are whole web sites dedicated to the "Loaded Lada." Clearly, this guy understands that:


Now, you are all caught up on the role of personal vehicles in Baku.